Stuck In A Timestream
by SarBrook
Summary: So, this thing happens, right? Suddenly the malfunctioning vortex manipulator completely malfunctions, and Lillian Meyers is stuck. But there's a problem. A big problem. What is it? Spoilers...
1. 1: An Actual Holiday

**Important Note: If you haven't read _Crossing Timestreams_, this might not make sense. I tried to describe some things, but it would make a lot more sense if you read the first story in this series before this one.  
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**If you have read _Crossing Timestreams_, enjoy! Things are going to be different this time, in case you can't tell from the title. :-)  
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**.1.**

**An Actual Holiday**

Sighing, I dip my fingers into the soft, chalk-like sand. The book in my lap, momentarily forgotten, falls off my lap and into the gray dust. I brush Lizzie Bennet's face clean, tracing the curves of the words _Pride and Prejudice_, slightly embossed on the paperback cover. I place the book back in the Tardis and stick my toes in the sand, wiggling them. The blue door of the Tardis, the most wonderful and awesome ship ever created, bumps against my back. I push it away with one hand while tracing a circle into the sand with another. The sand is so soft, like fine baby powder.

I close my eyes and lift up my chin, reveling in this amazing, impossible moment. I open my eyes again and take in the gorgeous sight of the green, blue, and white planet before me. A planet that looks just like the one I came from about, oh, three or four years ago by my timestream. Give or take a few hundred years. Because what is time, really? It feels like a straight line at first, but when you travel in the Tardis—as in Time And Relative Dimension In Space—also known as a time machine—you quickly learn that time isn't straight at all and in fact it is just a big pile of yarn that the cat played with and knotted together.

Or, as some would say, time is just a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff.

Once upon a time, in a world far away, in a completely different universe, that was just a line from a TV show. Now, however… it's something my best friend said. My best friend… also know as the man I love, though I do NOT intend to tell him that little fact anytime soon. He's not exactly the type to confess undying love for anyone. I guess he's kinda like Mr. Darcy in that regard. Although, come to think of it, Mr. Darcy does confess his love to Lizzie… it just takes him a while and it's not as if he really wants to, he's just tired of holding it in. And she rejects him, anyway. But they end up together at the end. Because it's a story. A book. Fiction. In my old universe, this universe is fiction, too. So I guess I'm just philosophizing things that I really have no right philosophizing.

Must be the mood. Basking in the light of the Earth would do that too you, I suppose.

But back to my best friend.

Yes, I do harbor romantic feelings towards him. Yes, the future version of himself has said/done some things that make me believe that he might feel the same way. Future version? Right… remember what I said about time being all wound together? Where… there's this thing on my wrist that won't come off no matter how much I pry at it. It's called a vortex manipulator. It travels through time and space, kinda like the Tardis, except… not nearly as classy or cool looking. It just kinda looks like a big leather bracelet or something that someone who's really into BDSM would wear. The Tardis is a blue box that's bigger on the inside.

Still with me?

Anyway, the vortex manipulator is faulty or something. It brings me to times and places all willy nilly, ripping me out of the past and into the future and vice versa. I can't control it. It does what it wants, when it wants, no matter how bad the timing. Like those moments when the future version of my best friend is kissing me or getting around to confessing his undying love and how he would give his last regeneration to be with me. Ok… I made that last part up. There have been some times where he has kissed me… but that's not the only time I'm ripped away. Could be in the middle of an adventure, or in the heat of battle, while in the shower… anytime.

So it kinda makes trying to feel out the possibility of a relationship with him a bit… impossible. Because I never know when I'm going to leave.

But that's not the only reason it's hard. You see… he's not the type to get into a relationship. Not with someone who's human…

Oh, he's an alien. Did I mention that?

Yup. He's a Time Lord. Pompous title, yes, but there's more. He's from the lost planet of Gallifrey. He doesn't die, he just regenerates into a new man. And I don't know his name.

I call him the Doctor.

~XxX~

So, where was I? Oh yes. I'm dangling my legs out of the doorway of the Tardis and into the sand or dust or dirt or whatever of the moon. Earth's moon. Special request by yours truly. I mean, who wouldn't want to go to the moon? I have my own personal reasons for wanting to, of course, but still. Anyone would want to sink their toes into the moon.

I hope there's no such thing as a moon virus.

The Doctor, wearing his blue suit, sits next to me. I guess he decided to stop tinkering with the Tardis. He's been there for hours, fixing things that probably don't need fixing. He's silent for a moment, taking in the view of the earth and stars. I take the moment of his distraction to steal some glances of him.

This regeneration (the 10th) is skinny for sure and normally not my type. But take one good hard look into those wide brown eyes and that infectious crazy smile and you would see what the big deal is. His dark hair defies gravity, sticking up and out in the front. His side burns are too long and his suit is too tight. He has this addiction to Converse sneakers that I don't really understand, since half the time we're running either away or toward evil on an adventure. But he's just… adorable.

Not long from now, he's going to become a completely different man. I used to prefer that man. Now I'm not so sure.

He finally looks at me. I blush, ducking my head away. I hope he didn't catch me staring. He doesn't say anything. He just keeps looking at me.

Anyway, half the time, I'm sure the Doctor is going to strand me somewhere or force my malfunctioning vortex manipulator to take me somewhere so that he doesn't have to worry about losing me. He hates losing people, so he's on this kick that he should be traveling alone right now. Which is complete crap, by the way. The last person in any universe who needs to be alone is the Doctor.

But what do I know? I'm just a weird chick who was once obsessed with a TV show.

Thinking about the TV show makes me think about my home universe. And I kinda don't want to think about that, because I don't think I'm ever going to be able to get back there.

I stand, my feet sinking a few inches in the moon. I start to take a step, but can't make myself do it. What if that lack of earth-like gravity makes me float away, out of the force field of air. I don't want to suffocate in the cold universe. Alone.

"When I was little," I find myself saying. "My dad used to tell me the moon was made of cheddar cheese and that all the cheddar on earth was from the moon. That's why there are craters." I giggle at the memory. "He was a professor of psychics at MIT, so of course I believed him. Why wouldn't the moon be made of cheese? My daddy knew everything. We used to joke that someday we would go to the moon and sink our toes into the cheesy goodness." I kick at the dust gently.

"Was?" the Doctor asks, voice deep.

I stare at the earth, so small and impossibly huge all at the same time. "He died. He and my mom. Car accident. Two years before I came here. I had just graduated from college." A tear falls down my face. "My mother taught high school English. She hated Shakespeare. She didn't think he should be read; he had to be seen. To her, Jane Austen was the best, because they might seem like insipid novels about marrying above your station, but…" I can almost hear my mother's voice as I say this. "But in reality, they are about women trying to achieve their best in a society when they were kept down." My voice cracks.

The Doctor stands, placing his hand on my shoulder. I stand as still as possible, squeezing my fists, trying not to break down. The tears are falling, but I refuse to let them win.

"She used to tell me why Mr. Darcy was the best romantic hero and how much he reminded her of my father." The words are just tumbling out, like I've opened the dam and the water is forcing it's way out of the small cracks. "Because even though Daddy loved her from the beginning, he wouldn't admit it. He was a thinker and she was a dreamer. He hated books, unless they were non-fiction. He thought novels were a waste of time, unbefitting of someone with their PhD in how the universe works. But he loved my mother. So much." I run a hand through my short hair. "He supported her dream to become a writer. When she finally published a book, he threw her this huge party. When they… died… they were coming back from a book signing." I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm talking about this. I haven't thought about them since before I came to this universe."

The Doctor, surprisingly, pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his chest. "Don't apologize, Lily. It's all right."

I bury my face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him… the fresh smell of the universe. "My mother loved lilies. It's part of why they named me Lillian. She always had a vase of lilies around…any type of lily, it didn't matter, she thought they were all beautiful." I pull back, wiping my nose. He hands me a handkerchief. I blow my nose. "She used to pluck one of the buds from a vase and make me sniff it. 'You're my blossom,' she would say. 'My favorite of the lilies.'"

He pulls me in again, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. "I like that." He pauses, then, rubbing my back with his hands, he continues. "I'll take you to this planet that is completely full of lilies someday. When you're ready. If you want."

I don't answer. I just lay my head on his shoulder.

We stand that way for a minute. It's one of those moments that you never want to end. But at the same time, it kills you to stand in it.

So I back away from him, blowing my nose again as an excuse.

He sticks his hands in his pockets, making circles in the moon dust with the toe of his red Converse. Then he looks up at me and offers me his hand, very gentleman-like. "Miss Meyers," he says, adopting a proper English accent. "May I have the pleasure of taking a turn around the moon with you?"

I laugh. "Won't we suffocate?"

"Around the Tardis, then," he says, not missing a beat. "We'll stay in the diameter of the air shell. I've extended it about… ten feet out?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" I tease.

He grins, winking at me. Instead of saying anything, he takes my hand, leading me in a walk. And by walk, I mean… well, you've seen what it's like walking on the moon. It's like jumping on a trampoline, except… more weightless. I think. It's hard to describe.

Pretty soon we're laughing, skipping about, daring to jump higher and higher.

That's when I let go of his hand. And jump too high and too far. I feel myself floating away, and, panicking, I yelp. "DOCTOR!"

He grabs my hand and pulls me to him. But he underestimated how much strength he needed. So we both fall inches from the side of the Tardis. He lands on his back, gray dust puffing everywhere. I land on top of him, stopping my head from banging into his chin just in time. But our faces are awfully close.

"Well," he says, staring at me. "I suppose I don't know my own strength on the moon."

"Ya think?" I ask, scrambling off him. As I stand, he sits up, grabbing my hand again. He pulls once and I fall flat on my bottom, practically in his lap. "Doctor, wha—?"

But the word is cut off.

Because he kisses me.

My stomach jumps into my chest and my heart leaps into my throat. His hands cup my face; my own hands are digging into the moon.

He pulls away after a moment, slowly, licking his lips. After looking at me for a moment, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs, he presses one more kiss to my lips, though it's must shorter and more chaste.

"I've heard of kissing in the moonlight," I say, once again coming down with a case of verbal diarrhea. "But never kissing in the earthlight."

He chuckles. "Let's pretend we're the first."

We. For some reason, that makes my stomach jump again.

We stare at each other for a moment. I have no idea what's going through that Time Lord mind of his, but mine is going to fast, even I can't keep track of the flow of the thoughts. I'm thinking it's basically just my mind exploding and imploding all at the same time.

Then, the Doctor smiles, wiping at my cheek. This makes his laugh harder.

"What?" I ask, touching my cheek.

"You have moon on your face. Moon face."

The ridiculousness of the statement make me push his shoulder, clucking. "Whatever," I laugh, looking away.

He grabs me again, grabbing my chin, kissing me again. My heart is thumping against the Tardis key on the chain around my neck.

He pulls back after a moment. "I like your moon face." His eyes are lazy, his smile lopsided.

I swallow. "Is this a dream?"

His eyes search my face and he becomes serious. "I'm not quite sure."

I can't believe I'm about to do this. I lean in this time, pressing my lips against his, letting all the emotion I feel towards him pour out into the action. I run my fingers through that amazing hair. And, yes, it's every bit as amazing as I dreamed it would be. Soft. Supple. Easy to twirl around my fingers.

He pulls back. Again. I open my eyes, licking my lips. They feel puffy and raw. He's breathing heavily and I cannot tell what he's thinking. I glance up at his hair and giggle. His serious expression is quickly replaced by confusion.

"You have moon in your hair," I laugh. "Moon hair."

He looks up as if he could see his own hair. "Whatever," he jokes, mimicking my American accent.

Giggling, I run a hand through my own short locks (never get your hair cut on the planet Shan Shen) then crawl back to my feet. The Doctor follows a moment later, curling his hand into mine, swinging our arms back and forth.

"How do you feel about Victorian London for Christmas?" he asks as we enter the Tardis. I pull my hand away so that I can pick up my book.

I raise an eyebrow as I walk up to the console. "It is Christmas already?"

He grins at me, and, giving the moon dust in his hair and basically all over his body, it's pretty comical. "That's what a time machine is for, Lils."

I roll my eyes. "Please don't call me Lils, Doc." I toss the book onto the jump seat.

He just chuckles. "Very well, Blossom."

Well, that made my stomach jump. He hasn't called me that yet. Only 11 has called me that.

I clear my throat. "Victorian London sounds nice. Can I wear a pretty dress?"

But I never heard his answer.

My body buzzes with electricity, and, gasping, I'm transported somewhere else.

I land on my feet (which is a big deal, to be honest) in a park. I lean onto a tree for a second, allowing myself to catch my breath.

I told you! I freaking told you! Just when I'm getting somewhere with the Doctor, the stupid universe decides to take me away and plop me down on some stupid planet where I have to run around and try to figure what stupid thing I have to pretend I don't know anything about.

AND! To top it off! I'm not wearing any shoes!

I growl and punch the tree. Ow. Ok, not doing that again.

Shaking my hand to get the feeling back, I look around. No police box in sight. Strange. Usually I land somewhere near the Doctor. Ahead of me, a group of men are playing soccer. Ok, I must be in England or something, because lord knows I'm not in America. People don't play soccer in America.

Frowning, I step forward, wincing a bit at the pain of walking barefoot, for some reason drawn to the game. One of the men scored the last goal (that's what it's called, right? Haha, just kidding.) and the whole team has jumped on him, screaming. Except one kinda pudgy guy. He's standing there as if someone just kicked his dog.

Wait a second…

I start walking faster. A man with floppy brown hair breaks away from the pig pile and is walking away, arms in the air, triumphant. A girl with long straight brown hair walks up to him, clearly upset. He tries to calm her down.

My jaw drops as I see my future self slap the 11th Doctor across the face.


	2. 2: Lodger I & The End of the Beginning

**=) The game is about to change. That's all I'm saying.  
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**.2.**

**The Lodger I**

**And**

**The End of the Beginning**

So, it's not the first time that I saw myself from the future. It seems to be an ongoing trend. When I woke up in the hospital on the moon, I was there. When I woke up in the cave with the eterziel, I was there. I keep saving myself. But... this seems different. Future Me doesn't seem to know I'm here. Which means she's not here to save me from something. I can't help but get a bad feeling as I watch her argue with the Doctor. I'm still just too far away to hear her words, but the stiff posture doesn't help. Part of me wants to go tackle her and hold her down until she tells me what happened to make her treat the Doctor like that. But that could be a very bad thing. The last thing I need is to blow up time by touching my future self.

Though, come to think of it, this whole situation (i.e. my being here in general) breaks all the rules of time. I mean, I've touched my past and future selves and time didn't blow up, so what's that all about?

A man comes up to Future Me and the Doctor. He puts a hand on her shoulder (I know it's me, but it seems more appropriate to talk about myself in third person in this case). Whoever he is, he's trying to calm her down. I squint, as if from this distance it will make his features less blurry. I start walking forward, careful, slow. I've walked a few yards when the man's face clicks. I stop in my tracks again, gasping.

Is that...?

But he's got his arm around Future Me. Her head buries into his shoulder. He says something to the Doctor, and then the man guides her away. I swallow, watching. He's tender with her. With me. He clearly loves her. Loves me.

They fade away into the distance.

And that's when I find my energy. Bare feet pounding against the cold grass, I run. I know who that was. It doesn't make sense, but it had to have been him. It had to be.

But the question is how? How... and why?

My heart is threatening to break out of my chest. His name is forming on my lips, ready to spill out, even though I can't see him anymore and even though part of me knows this isn't the right time.

I'm not watching where I'm running and I don't even know where I am when I collide into someone.

My head smacks against a chin and suddenly I see those metaphorical stars.

"Owww..." I whine, stumbling back, clutching my head. A pair of hands grab me, keeping me from falling back.

"Watch where you're going, Lillian," the Doctor scolds. I open my eyes to see his finger pointed in my face. "You never know who you're going to run into."

I rub my forehead. "Yeah, well... whatever." Yup. Intelligent today.

The Doctor opens his mouth to assumedly scold me some more, but then it falls open and he stares at me. Then looks behind him, then back to me, and behind himself again. Comical to anyone outside us, I'm sure.

"Lily!" the Doctor exclaims, grabbing both of my shoulders again. "Where did you come from?"

"The Tardis," I say, feeling my head, wincing at the tender spot.

His eyes grow wide. "The Tardis? Where did it land? Where's Amy? How did it land? Where are your shoes?"

I give him a confused look, then remember where we are in his timestream. The Lodger. My other future self must be on the Tardis with Amy and the Tardis can't land right now because of the disturbance from that other Tardis or spaceship or whatever.

"Oh, not that Tardis," I say, waving him off. "Tardis in the past. Actually..."

But he interrupts me. By licking my face.

I jump back, screaming out. I wipe at my face. "Ew! What was that for?"

He's staring at me in shock. "You have moon on your face."

Here I start to blush a little bit. "I just came here from the moon. Do you remember that?" His look has increased from shocked to extremely shocked. "We ran around the moon and I almost jumped out of the air shell, but you saved me."

Now I really am blushing. I gaze down at the grass, then back up at him. His eyes are wide, unbelieving. Then, grinning, he jumps me, hugging me, crushing me against his chest.

"Oh, you brilliant girl!" he exclaims, laughing. "Oh, how I have missed you!"

The Doctor lifts me up, spinning me into a circle. I laugh, clutching his shoulders so that I don't slide out of his grip.

Once he sets me down, I think a second. "But, Doctor," I say. "You just said I was on the Tardis with Amy?" More of a question than a statement.

Looking guilty, he swallows. "Well… I meant that I missed you here. Now. Helping me." He clears his throat. "Come meet my new friends." He takes my hand, leading me over to a park bench. I recognize Craig and… Sophie? Yeah, Sophie. Even though I kinda recognize the others, I don't remember their names.

The Doctor stops at the bench, grabbing his tweed coat and slipping it on. "Lily, this is Craig and Sophie. Craig is my new flat mate. Sophie is his friend." He gestures to them and then to me. "Craig and Sophie, this is my friend Lily. Lily… travels with me."

Sophie laughs, pulling me in for a hug. "Oh, I know Lily, of course!" she says. I return her hug half-heartedly.

Uh oh.

"You do?" the Doctor asks, confused and alarmed.

"Yeah," Sophie answers, a little confused as she looks at me. "She's my cousin's… Wait, when did you get your haircut? And where are you shoes?" Then, while my jaw is working up and down, she continues. "And aren't you supposed to be in London for preparations?"

Her cousin? Preparations? This so doesn't sound good…

I swallow as Sophie, Craig, and the Doctor watch me with various looks of confusion. "Uh…"

The Doctor steps in. "Oh, it's a wig. And… someone stole her shoes in London. She just got back."

"Yeah," I say. "The hair is a bit of a joke with… your cousin."

She seems to take that at face value, thank god. "Well, I have the perfect dress picked out. Remember how I almost bought that yellow one?" I nod, dazed, just to keep her going. "Well, instead I bought this gorgeous purple one with a slit in the back. It's nice and fitted. But, come to think of it, I hope the purple doesn't clash too much with your colors. But, anyway, how do you know the Doctor?"

My mind with whirling. Once again, the Doctor steps in. "Oh, we go way back." He puts an arm around my shoulders. "Did you see me during the match, Blossom?"

Before I can answer, a tall man in a matching uniform comes over to us all with a blue plastic bag. He pulls out a can and tosses it at Craig, though he speaks at the Doctor. "You are so on the team! Next week we've got the Crown and Anchor, we'll annihilate them!"

The Doctor's arm drops from around me and he steps into the man's face. "No violence, not while I'm around, not today, not ever." I put a hand on his shoulder, but he keeps going. "I'm the Doctor, the oncoming storm... and you meant beat them in a football match, didn't you?"

The guy nods, a little scared. "Yeah."

"Lovely, what sort of time?" the Doctor smiles.

Craig opens the can beer. It explodes, spraying him in the face. Everyone laughs.

Then it happens again. And again.

And again.

The Doctor looks at me, realizing that I'm not stuck in the time loop, and takes my hand. He leads me away from the group, pressing a button on the blue-tooth like thing on his ear that I just noticed.

"Amy?" the Doctor says. "Lily?" I start to answer, then realize he's not talking to me. He's talking to the Lily in the Tardis. I close my mouth. He pauses, listening. "What does the scanner say?" Another pause. He closes his eyes. "Yes, yes, it's...it's good! Zigzag plotter, zigzag plotter, Lily." The Doctor pulls me to that I'm standing in front of him. He puts his hands on my shoulders and stares at me as he's listening. Our eyes meet. I want to ask him what Sophie was talking about, but I know this isn't the time.

Hell, it's never the time, is it?

I hear twin screams, tiny and tinny, from the Doctor's earpiece. "Lily? Amy?" He's nervous now, but then he's relieved. "Ah, thank heavens. I thought the Tardis had been flung off into the vortex with you inside it, lost forever." He pulls me suddenly, crushing me against his chest. He kisses the top of my head. I cling to him, because I have no idea what's going on and it's scaring me. Well, I mean, I know what's going on with the Doctor and Amy and apparently another future version of myself in the Tardis, but…

Preparations? What did Sophie mean by preparations?

"How are the numbers?" the Doctor asks.

From his earpiece I hear a disembodied Scottish girl say, "All fives."

"Fives?" The Doctor and I look over his shoulder. Sophie, Craig, and all them are talking and laughing, no longer in the time loop. "Even better. Still, it means the effect's almost unbelievably powerful and dangerous, but don't worry." He lets me go. "Hang on, OK? I've got some rewiring to do." He pushes the button on the earpiece. "I think you should go."

It takes me a second to realize that he's talking to me now. "Go?"

"Yes," He sticks his hands in his pockets. "Sophie knows you. It's your future. That's very dangerous."

I cock my head to the side. "Does this have something to do with Future Me slapping your face?"

He freezes, alarmed. "You saw that?"

I cross my arms. "Yes. What was that about?"

He shakes his head slowly. "I honestly don't know…" His tone is full of wonder and confusion. Then he shakes his head quickly. "But it doesn't matter. You have to go, Lily."

Before I can retort, Sophie pops up from behind him. "Sorry," Sophie says. "Don't mean to be rude, but was that Michael earlier? I thought that was you with him, but you're here now."

I died. I just had a heart attack and died.

The Doctor slowly turns to her. "Michael?"

Sophie nods. "Yeah, Michael is my cousin."

"Michael is your cousin?" the Doctor repeats, toneless.

"Yeah…" she gives him a strange look. "He is. Didn't she tell you? Oh, I suppose not, you and I only just met."

"Tell him what?" I ask. The Doctor gives me a sharp look, but I ignore her.

Sophie looks between the both of us. "Oh… is this the guy?" She points at the Doctor. "The one you told me about, Lils?"

I look between the two of them, one inquisitive, one getting angry. "Yes…?"

"Wow," Sophie says, taking a step back. "Sorry. I'll let you two have it out then. Better now than the big day, right?"

"Sorry… big day?" the Doctor asks.

She gives me an almost pitying look. "You should probably tell him." She back away, leaving us alone now.

I stare at where she was. My brain isn't even working anymore.

"You need to go right now," the Doctor says, grabbing my left wrist, the one with the vortex manipulator. "You can't stay here, it's too dangerous."

"Big day?" I say. "Michael?"

"No!" the Doctor drops my wrist, taking my face in his hands instead. "Look at me. Lily!" I look at him, but I don't really see him. "Don't think about it. This is years into your future. Oh, I should have known when I saw you earlier…" He hits his head a couple times. "No, you need to leave right now and you need to forget this ever happened."

"I'm going to see Michael again?"

The Doctor sighs. "You don't know if it's the same Michael, Blossom. You don't know what Sophie is talking about."

But I make the conclusion anyway.

My eyes start to fill with tears. "Doctor," I whisper. "Am I going to marry Michael?"

"Lily, stop," he takes my face in his hands again.

I don't stop. I can't stop. "Why did I slap you?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Doctor…"

"Lily, don't ask this of me."

"Please, Doctor…"

He closes his eyes. "You said… you said I abandoned you." He shakes his head. "But that's not possible. I would never, ever abandon you, Lily."

I take a step back. "But you did. You're going to."

"No," he insists, stepping forward as I step back. "No, I won't. I promise you."

"But you will!" I turn, covering my face with my hands. "Oh my god, you're going to leave me. This is what always happens. You always leave."

The Doctor grabs me again. "Stop it, Lily. This is why we're not supposed to know the future. It drives us crazy."

I rip away from him, spinning to face him. "Well, it's a little late for that, isn't it? This isn't the sort of thing I can forget, Doctor! I can't forget that I saw this!"

And with that statement, I'm whipped away in a storm of electricity, with only the shock, disappointment, and desperation on the Doctor's face in my mind.

I land in the Tardis. The 10th Doctor's Tardis.

"Lily?" the Doctor asks from behind me.

I turn around. He's standing there in his brown suit, a strange, desperately sad look on his face. Sadness… and worry.

"Lily, you can't be here right now!" he says, stepping back.

I just stare at him. He's going to leave me. I don't know why this thought never occurred to me. The Doctor leaves everyone in the end. Or they leave him. I guess… I guess I always knew we wouldn't be spending the rest of my life together, but sometimes, the way he looks at me…

"Lillian!" he shouts. "You have to leave. Right now."

Is this is? Is this the moment the Doctor abandons me?

"Why?" I ask. My voice is soft, cracking at the edges. No, I will not cry. I will not allow myself to cry. "Why do I have to leave? Why can't I just stay with you? I have no place else to go, Doctor!"

"It's not safe," he insists. "You can't be here right now."

I want to collapse. "Why?" I whisper. "What did I do?"

He gives me a hard look, an exasperated look. "You didn't do anything!" He tosses his hands in the air. "Lily… I'm regenerating!"

That snaps me out of my funk pretty damn quick.

"Regenerating?" I don't know why I'm talking like a parrot right now.

He holds his hands up. They're starting to glow.

"Oh my god," I say. My hands immediately cover my mouth. "Oh my god! I have to get out of here."

He gives me as look as if to say, "Duh!"

I open the cover of the vortex manipulator and start pushing some buttons. Doesn't work. I input the most familiar coordinates, ones I could never forget from my time with Michael… But they don't work.

I'm stuck on the Tardis with a regenerating Doctor.

I swear. Violently. "It won't let me go!"

Tensing, the Doctor takes a couple steps towards me. "It has to!" He pulls out the sonic screwdriver, grabbing my wrist with his hands, thankfully not regenerating. Yet. He tries a few different settings, but I'm still here. On the Tardis. Which is going to crash once he regenerates.

Crying out, the Doctor drops to his knees. Reflexively, I follow him down, bracing him.

"Doctor?" I ask.

He looks up at me. Something pushes away the pain for a second. His eyes become tender. "I want you to know," he says, taking hold of my shoulders and staring at me, more serious than I have ever seen him. "Lily, I want you to know before I go…" He swallows. "I want you to know…" he keeps repeating. He closes his eyes. Then, they snap back open. "Whatever happens, what ever kind of man I become, I'm still the same man who…" He keels over, moaning. His head and hands are starting to turn gold.

"Doctor…?"

He stands, slowly, painfully. I'm frozen in spot.

He looks down at me with such sadness and a tinge of remorse. "I don't want to go," he says, desperate, as if he's just realizing this.

I stand now. "You're not. You're still going to be the Doctor."

He gives me one final look, his face starting to glow brighter. The Doctor grabs me suddenly. He pulls me to him.

He kisses me.

I cling to him, savoring this kiss, this last kiss for a man who's about to be reborn as someone else. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing back all these horrible thoughts of abandonment, because… I'd rather live in this moment and lose it than have never experienced it.

The Doctor is glowing brighter. I open my eyes, pulling away from him. He's almost blinding to look at. But I cup his face, drinking in what is possibly the last time that I will ever see him like this. Well, ok, maybe I'll see him once more in this regeneration, but right now, it really doesn't feel like it.

Suddenly, his eyes widen and he grabs my upper arms, pushing me away. He opens his mouth to say something.

But his body bursts with the regeneration.

And I'm thrown away from him, hard, fast.

I fly through the air a moment and, before I can scream, I land. Against a wall.

And the world goes black.


	3. 3: The Eleventh Hour Part One

**.3.**

**The Eleventh Hour**

**Part One**

"Lily!"

A voice is calling to me from across the distance, from beyond the depths of the blackness. Slowly, annoyingly, a drum beats inside my head with every pulse of my heart.

"Lily, you need to wake up!"

As if responding to an order, my eyes open. I take in the sight around me. I'm in a strange room, a circular room, a room that's… on fire? Something explodes, causing sparks to firework. I blink at the light, the scent of melting metal, and the smoke. I sit up, coughing. Something wet and sticky is covering the back of my head. I feel at it. I look at my hand, seeing blood. But I don't hurt. I'm not in pain. Shouldn't I be in pain?

"Ah! Lovely!" calls that voice. A man's voice.

Squinting, I look in the direction of the voice. I can't really make out the man. The room is spinning. Literally. Literally spinning. I'm starting to slide across the floor.

The man is making his way towards me now. He's wearing a light blue shirt, a blue swirly tie, and brown striped pants. His hair is a little long, parted to the side, and messy. He's grinning at me.

"Are you ok?" he asks. I think he's concerned, but he's more…gleeful than concerned, really. As if this is just some big adventure.

I think a moment. I have no idea where I am, the room is spinning, some crazy guy is staring at me, and there's blood on the back of my head, but no wound. Yeah, I'd say I'm not ok.

After that last mostly sane and logical thought, I start to scream. The sound rips from my throat, tearing my vocal chords. I scramble away from this strange man, sliding down the tilting room, past fire and sparks and smoke.

"No, Lily, wait!" the man says, thankfully staying where he is, but holding his hands out. "It's me. It's just me. I've regenerated."

My face contorts in confusion. "Who are you?" The sound of my own voice gives me pause.

The man looks crushed, but he continues on. "Lily… Blossom, it's me. It's the Doctor."

I look him up and down, from the tall forehead to the white Converse sneakers. "Doctor who?"

His jaw works up and down. I cringe as something else explodes. I huddle against a wall, hugging my knees.

The man's head cocks to the side. "What do you mean…?"

But this room, this strange room, this room that looks like a bomb just went off… it suddenly jerks down and I'm sliding, sliding down the floor. I try to grab hold of something, but my fingers slip. I'm screaming again.

Apparently that's all I know how to do. Scream and panic.

There seems to me no end to the sliding, no wall to stop me from falling. I look over my shoulder and the scream more, louder if possible. The doors are open and outside there is nothing but sky. I claw at the floor, but it doesn't stop me. My legs kick wildly, outside the doors. My hips are just over the edge when a hand grabs mine.

That man, that strange man, just saved me. I look down and wish I didn't. Another scream tears out of me. We're hundreds, maybe thousands of feet from the ground. My mind races, because how can this be possible? How are we so high up in such a weird… thing? Is this even an airplane?

"I've got you!" the man shouts above the whipping wind. "Give me your other hand!"

I swing my right hand up and the man grabs it. He pulls me up, back into the strange flying thing. He slams to double doors shut. I lay on the floor, trying to calm to shaking of my body.

"Are we crashing or something?" I ask. My voice is quivering, but not as bad as I would have thought.

The man gets to his feet and runs to the middle of the room, where there's this… weird… thing… this, like, circular thing with lots of weird objects on it and a giant tube with three inner tubes.

"No, we're just doing this for a bit of fun," the man says, running around. "Of course we're crashing!"

"Well, don't get all moody with me, Mister!" I snap, crawling back to my feet and making my way up to that weird thing the man is running around. "I don't even know where I am! Hell, I don't even know who I am!"

"I don't have time to explain it to you, Lillian!" the man stops in his tracks, looking at me from the other side of the column of stuff. He runs both hands through his floppy hair. "Ok. Sorry. Here's the nutshell. Your name is Lillian Elizabeth Meyers. I'm the Doctor. We're on the Tardis and we're about to crash into England, so if you will excuse me, I'm trying to save us from dying in a painful firey death!"

And, as if on cue, we crash. The world flips and I'm in the air. Again. Screaming, I slam into what feels like a wall, then roll over and continue falling. Down, down, down, past pieces of the Tardis (whatever that is). My throat is raw. I flail, trying to catch myself on something.

With a giant splash, I land in water.

The world is muffled. As I decelerate, my head comes within inches of hitting the bottom of the swimming pool. I know it's a swimming pool because I've taken a big mouthful of chlorinated water. I cough, but try to keep my mouth shut, because the last thing I want to do right now is drown.

I pump my arms and legs. Oh look. I know how to swim. That's convenient. Holding my breath, I swim up and up. Just when I think I'll never reach the surface, I strike air.

Gasping and coughing, I try to swim forward, but my lungs appear to have other ideas. I can't catch my breath. Oh god. Oh sweet Jesus. Panicking, I lose focus of the whole swimming thing and start to slide back into the water again.

A hand clenches mine, pulling me out from the depths. Another hand wraps under my armpit and the hand leaves mine, instead mirroring the other hand. I wretch. Chlorine burns out of my nose, up my throat, hell, even in my ears and eyes. As soon as I feel the edge of the pool, I grab on for dear life, shaking as I expel the water from my body.

"Are you ok?" the man who called himself the Doctor asks.

Unable to speak, I nod. I'm vaguely aware of the Doctor pulling himself out of the pool in a giant wave. He starts rummaging around what sounds like a big mess.

Ok… Breathing hurts, but it's better than not breathing. I'm generally sore, but nothing feels like it's broken or anything. I lay my head against the wet concrete edge of the pool. In and out. There we go. We can freak out about the whole almost dying thing later.

Rubbing my eyes, I blink a few times. The world is fuzzy, but it's slowly coming back. Things keep splashing into the pool behind me.

"I know I left it here somewhere… ah ha!" the Doctor says, gleeful. "Knew this would come in handy someday!"

The world is finally mostly clear. I look around me. But nothing makes sense. The wall in front of me looks like a black and white tiled floor. And the floor beyond the pool looks like a giant bookshelf. I look up. Ok, that was a big mistake. The roof is also a giant bookshelf. Behind me, there are books floating in the pool and the wall to my back is a ceiling.

I'm lucky a book didn't hit me in the head. Although… maybe it would have knocked my memory back?

"The room is wrong," I say.

The Doctor's white shoes appear a few inches from my nose. He kneels in front of me. A rope is wrapped around his shoulder. "The Tardis created a pool to catch us so we wouldn't get hurt."

"That sentence doesn't make sense. How can a room recreate itself?"

He scowls at me. "You're no fun like this."

"Well, say something that makes sense!"

"We need to climb out of here. How are you with rope climbing?" He offers me a hand to help out of the pool.

I take it, pulling my lower half out of the water. "I have no idea," I say. "I guess we'll find out."

Nodding, the man watches me for a moment. Something akin to sadness flashes across his face, but the he turns away, uncoiling the rope.

I look down at myself. Black leggings. Short black skirt with a bright, bold flower design. Pink v-neck tee shirt. No shoes. There's a giant leather thing on my wrist. It's itchy. I play with the leather cuff. Behind a long strip of leather on the top is a weird computer-like thing with buttons. Frowning, I scratch underneath the leather. Ugh, it's annoying. I undo the strap. The cuff falls to the floor. I flex my wrist, which is stiff as if it weren't used to moving.

"There we go!"

The Doctor is tugging at the rope, which seems to be staying in place. He turns to me, beaming. "You first in case you fall."

Leaving the leather cuff beside the pool, I get up. I'm a little wobbly on my feet, but it's manageable. I take hold of the rope and, taking a deep breath, pull myself up.

Oh look. Apparently I can climb ropes. Awesome. I'm just full of useful skills.

Gaining confidence with every inch, I work my way quickly up the rope. My muscles are starting to scream at me, but the idea of falling AGAIN… well, it keeps me going. That, and I don't want to knock the nice, yet crazy Doctor off the rope either.

"We're almost at the top," I say a few agonizing moments later.

"Keep going!" the Doctor orders, though not unkindly. "We need to get all the way out."

I do as he says, because, well, what else is there for me to do?

The closer I get to the doors, the happier I get. Soon, my hand breaks free of this Tardis (whatever that is) and I'm pulling myself up and out. I summersault out of the Tardis, landing in soft, cool grass. I look up at the dark sky speckled with stars and I smile.

"Can I have an apple?" the Doctor says all of the sudden. I sit up, cocking my head at him. But he's not looking at me. I look behind me. A little girl with red hair is standing there in a while nightgown and a red sweater. She points a flashlight at me and then at the Doctor.

"All I can think about - apples," the Doctor continues, still hanging onto the side of… a blue wooden box? "I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving. That's new - never had cravings before." He lifts himself up, straddling the… blue wooden box? He looks down into it. "Whoa! Look at that! Did you see that, Lily?"

I just sit there, mute. How can we have been in a blue wooden box?

"Are you ok?" the girl asks. She sounds Scottish or something.

I don't know if she's asking me or him, but I nod anyway. I nod… a very glazed nod.

The Doctor puts both legs over the side, legs dangling, sitting on the edge of the BLUE WOODEN BOX! "Just had a fall. All the way down there, right to the library. Hell of a climb back up."

"You're both soaking wet."

"We were in the swimming pool," I say, more to the Doctor than the little girl.

The Doctor beams at me as the girl says, "He said you were in the library."

"So was the swimming pool," the Doctor answers, nonchalant.

The girl pauses for a second. Before my head an fully explode, she asks a question. "Are you with the police?"

"Why?" the Doctor asks. "Did you call the police?"

She looks between the both of us, hopeful. "Did you come about the crack in my wall?"

"What cra….AGH!" The Doctor clutches his chest, falling off the Tardis, missing me by inches.

I scramble over to him, placing a tentative hand on his back. "Are you ok, Doctor?" I ask. Oh god. If he dies, where does that leave me? Alone with a strange little Scottish girl with no idea who I am?

"No, I'm fine, it's OK. This is all perfectly norm…" He snaps up to his knees. His mouth opens. He coughs a puff of gold glittering dust.

My hand withdraws as if he just burnt me.

"Who are you?" the little girl asks.

His hands are glowing with the same dust now. "That's Lily. Me, I don't know yet. I'm still cooking. Does it scare you?"

She shakes her head. "No, it just looks a bit weird."

"No, no, no. The crack in your wall. Does it scare you?"

"Yes."

In one swift move, the Doctor jumps to his feet. "Well, then, no time to lose." He holds a hand out to me and, biting my lip, I take it, allowing him to pull me up to my feet. "Are you ok?" he asks, voice low. Something churns in his green eyes, something I don't quite recognize.

I just nod, once again dazed.

"Good," he says, releasing my hand and spinning back to the girl. "I'm the Doctor. This is my friend Lily. Do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions and don't wander off."

Spinning with purpose, the Doctor struts confidently. And bangs into a tree. He falls flat on his back.

I stifle a laugh. It shouldn't be amusing, but it is.

"You all right?" the girl asks.

The Doctor doesn't move. "Early days. Steering's a bit off."


	4. 3: The Eleventh Hour Part Two

**Yup. I know. It's been forever. In a nutshell, here's what happened: I got a new job, I moved out of my parents house two hours away, got my first apartment and moved in with my boyfriend. My new job has longer hours and it's been a pain adjusting to my new life. It know it doesn't sound like much on paper, but that's what it is. A completely new life in a completely different place with a completely different schedule and more work than I've never had in my entire life.  
**

**It's pretty awesome.  
**

**I'm not making any promises about quick updates, but I will try my darndest to keep going. I'm hoping on at least once a week. But again, no promises.  
**

**But, damn, does it feel good to write again.  
**

* * *

**.3.**

**The Eleventh Hour**

**Part Two**

The little girl, Amelia, leads us through her house and into the kitchen. The Doctor stops in the doorway and looks around. I scoot past him, pushing the white door open further, to stand in front of a stove. It's small, faded yellow, and very old fashioned looking. I stare at it. There are four burners. It's gas. Three pots of varying size. The pots are light blue. My mind starts to race. I see a stainless steel range with coiling electric burners. I see a black, shiny-topped flat stove with burners that glow orange. I see a large gas stove, white, with six burners. Ok. So, there are many kinds of stoves and I can recognize that.

The thought, though strange, comforts me.

I take in everything around me. I can name it all—table, chairs, window, sink, refrigerator. Ok. So I'm not completely stupid. I know what things are and how they work (at least in a kitchen) and something tells me I'd know how to make things in here if I had to. I just have no idea who I am.

And yet… something about this is very familiar.

Amelia takes a shiny red apple from a fruit bowl. She brings it over to the Doctor, holding it out as she studies him.

"If you're a doctor, why does your box say 'Police?'"

The blue box. I didn't see what it said, didn't even know that I should look for words. Can I even read? Next to the stove, above the counter, are cabinets. Inside the cabinets are boxes of cereal. One of the labels says "Weetabix." Ok, I can read. Sweet.

The Doctor grabs the apple from Amelia, sniffs it, and then takes a bite. He chews a second, then, face scrunching up like a baby that just ate something sour (oh, I know something else and can thus create metaphors!), he spits the bits of apple onto the floor.

"That's disgusting," he says. "What is that?"

"An apple," I say, pleased I know what it is.

The Doctor does not share my enthusiasm. "Apples are rubbish. I hate apples." He shoves the cool apple at me.

"You said you loved them," says Amelia. I'm busy taking in the details of the apple, the varying shades of red and even green. This is an experiment now. See what I know and what I don't know.

"No, no, I love yoghurt. Yoghurt's my favorite. Give me yoghurt."

Amelia wrinkles her nose at him, but spins away and runs over to the fridge.

I squeeze the apple. It takes a tiny bit of effort to dent, no, bruise it. I take a bite. Sweet juice fills my mouth with each crunchy chew.

"I like apples," I say. I said that word different than he did. Not very different, but a still. I swallow my bite of apple. "Apple," I mouth. Different.

Amelia returns to us with a small container of yogurt. As she hands it to the Doctor, I think about the creamy texture and slight tang. I like yoghurt. Especially with strawberries.

The Doctor rips the foil top off the yoghurt and drinks it. Odd. I think you're supposed to eat it with a spoon.

I don't think he even swallows a drop before he spits it out. "I hate yoghurt, it's just stuff with bits in."

"You said it was your favorite," Amelia whines.

"New mouth, new rules." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. There's still some yoghurt on his chin. "It's like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything tastes wro-agh!" He screams and bends forward. My stomach jumps as he flings back and smacks his forehead.

"What is it? What's wrong with you?" she asks. I don't even think she's fazed.

The Doctor frowns at her, recovered, as if that burst of crazy didn't just happen. "Wrong with me? It's not my fault. Why can't you give me decent food? You're Scottish - fry something."

She frowns at him, then turns away.

"No, really," I say, stepping towards him. I place the apple on the table. "Are you alright?"

He looks me up and down. "I'm fine."

"But what's with the—"

"Lily, I'm fine." End of discussion.

I sigh. "You have yogurt on your chin."

He wipes at the wrong side.

"No, the other side."

He still misses somehow. I sigh again and step close to him, wiping it off myself. I'm cleaning my hand on my very damp skirt when it strikes me: that was a bit intimate. I feel him still looking at me, so I roll my gaze up to meet his. I search his eyes, but I have no idea what he's thinking. He's studying me.

"Are you alright?" he asks, voice low. He guides me away from the doorway, as Amelia has turned on the stove to heat a pan.

"Yeah," I say, distracted by the strange looking thin piece of meat she puts on the pan. It sizzles and the air is filled with a familiar salty, meaty scent. But that doesn't look like the strips of bacon I'm seeing in my mind…

"Lily," he says. I turn my attention back to him. "Do you remember anything?"

I consider, but the first thing I can remember is opening my eyes on that crashing Tardis. "I know what apples are and I can read and I think I can cook and that bacon smells good, but it looks funny. But I have no idea where I'm from, other than it must not be from here, because I talk differently from both of you. I think I'm American and you're English and she's…Scottish?"

He smiles, but then he's frowning so fast, I'm not sure he smiled in the first place. "Nothing about your past?"

I try, but it's impossible. And wicked frustrating. "Nope."

He keeps studying me and, man, it's totally freaking me out. Amelia interrupts his stare fest by handing us both towels.

"Thanks," the Doctor and I say at the same time.

I press the towel against my shirt to get rid of some of the clinging dampness. The Doctor, now standing next to the stove, is rubbing his hair with the towel.

"Ah! Bacon!" he says, full of glee. He drapes the towel around his shoulders then sits at the table. Amelia serves him the bacon and, using a fork and knife, the Doctor eats a piece. And by eats, I mean he chews it for like half a second and then pulls it out of his mouth. He leans forward, staring at little Amelia as if she were trying to kill him. "Bacon. That's bacon. Are you trying to poison me?"

And so it goes. I stand to the side as she fixes him baked beans. And I wince as he spits it out. Well, at least he had the decency to spit into the sink this time. Next it's bread and butter. Which he barely chews before he picks up the plate and stomps out of the room.

"Did you want something?" Amelia asks me.

The front door opens.

"I'm fine, thanks," I answer.

Somewhere outside, a plate crashes and a cat meows.

"And stay out!" The Doctor shouts.

"He's weird," Amelia says.

The door slams shut and the Doctor's footsteps echo through the house.

"Yes, he is, isn't he?" I frown at the doorways as he comes back into the room, clearly upset.

Sighing, Amelia looks in the fridge again. "We've got some carrots."

"Carrots!" The Doctor exclaims. Because, you know, carrots are an insult. Or maybe they are. I'm not quite sure. "Are you insane? No, wait, hang on. I know what I need. I need... I need... I need…" He opens the fridge door, looking also at the freezer.

"Fish fingers and custard," I say, somewhat under my breath.

"Yes! Fish fingers and custard!" He bumps the doors closed. He shoves the boxes into Amelia's arms, muttering something about her cooking, and then rounds on me. He marches up to me and peers into my face. Um, yeah, I don't like that. I take a step back, pressing against the counter. My reaction doesn't faze him. "How did you know that?" he asks.

"Know what?"

"Fish fingers and custard," he pulls something out of his pocket. It looks like a thick grey pen. He points it at me and the tip glows blue, almost like ET's finger. Huh. Pop culture. Cool.

"I'm sorry?" I flick my wrist at him. I don't like the blue light and whirring sound in my face.

"How did you know I was going to choose fish fingers and custard?"

I shrug. "I don't know. The thought just came to me."

"Hmm…" he regards the blue tipped thing for a moment. Then he slips it back into his pocket. "Maybe it's something you knew and now you're remembering."

My eyebrow raises. "How could I possibly know something about you that you didn't even know?"

"It's part of my future. Well, what used to be my future. It's my past now. But either way, you would have known it."

My mouth works up and down. "Buhhh…" I shake my head. "You are seriously weird."

He smiles, which surprised me more than it should have. "Thank you!" Then, as quick as it came, the smile is replaced by a frown. "I think."

Later, the custard is cooled and the fish fingers… no, fish sticks… fish don't have fingers, why would they be called fish fingers? Anyway, whatever. Amelia and I are sitting across from the Doctor, sharing a quart of vanilla ice cream. The Doctor dips a fish stick into the custard and takes a bite. My nose wrinkles. That does not sound like a good combo. He then lifts up the bowl and drinks out of it as if it's just a big cup. He replaces the bowl to the table. He has a custard mustache. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.

"Funny," Amelia says.

"Am I?" He looks at me. I think he wants my reaction. I shrug, and then nod. Funny, yes, but not in a comical way. In a weird way, totally. "Good. Funny's good. What's your name?"

"Amelia Pond."

Boom. That made me look up.

He didn't ask for her name earlier. And neither did I. But I knew it.

"Ah, that's a brilliant name. Amelia Pond, like a name in a fairy tale."

Amelia Pond. A face flashes in my mind. Creamy porcelain skin. A beautiful smile. A round face framed by long wavy red hair. Amy. Short for Amelia. Amelia Pond.

A woman's Scottish voice, like a whisper in my head, "Bit fairytale."

Karen Gillan. Another name, the same face, the same fair skin, the same smile, the same red hair as the woman in my mind and the little girl at my side. Why would the same face have two different names?

Somewhere far away, young Amelia Pond and the Doctor are still talking.

"I don't have a mum and dad," a young, sad voice. "Just an aunt."

"I don't even have an aunt."

Aunt. Sounds like "ant" when I say it, not "awnt." Ant. Another face. A skinny face. Male. Wide brown eyes, wild almost, with a certain manic, yet resolute look in them. Brown hair that sticks up everywhere. Something about the number ten is sticking out in my mind. 10… Ten… Ten…nant… Tennant! David Tennant!

Who the hell is David Tennant and why does he make me think about the Doctor?

"So, your aunt… where is she?"

"She's out."

"And she left you all alone?!"

Alone. One. The last. The last of the Time Lords. The Doctor is a Time Lord. The last.

This is hurting my head, but… something… something about it… I'm missing something. Something important. Something oh so important and it's the only thing worth remembering, but I can't remember it!

"I'm not scared," Amelia says, her voice filled with faux bravery and a bit of smart ass-ness.

"Course you're not. You're not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man and woman falls out of box, man eats fish custard, woman looks around as if she's never seen a kitchen before, and look at you! Just sitting there. So you know what I think?"

"What?"

"Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall."

Crack in the wall.

A large, thick crack, like the jagged mouth of The Joker from _The Dark Knight_. Oo, another pop culture reference. No, Lily, focus.

A thick crack with a shining light. In a forest. In a spaceship. In the earth. In the solar system. In the galaxy.

In the universe.

"Lily?"

The Doctor's voice interrupts me from reaching what could have been an epiphany.

"Hmm?" I shake my head and look up. He's standing at the door, Amelia Pond at his side.

Add a few feet and Amelia Pond will be standing by his side for a while.

"Are you coming?"

His voice is low, careful, and more than a bit confused. So very cautious.

And I can't blame him for that.

"Yeah. Yes!" I stand, the chair beneath me scratching against the floor like nails on a chalkboard. "Coming. Right. Crack in the wall…" I feel myself fading away. I shake my head again to clear it.

"What's wrong with her?" Amelia asks. Not in a snobby way. Like she cares, maybe, or is at least interested.

The Doctor ruffles her hair, smiling down fondly at her. "Lily's forgot her whole life. Hit her head during the crash." He cocks his head to the side. "Are you remembering something, Lil?" he asks as I cross the kitchen to stand by him.

I bite my lower lip. "I don't know…" I eye Amelia. I don't want to say too much in front of her. She's smart and clearly resourceful, but she's still just a kid.

…A kid in a long red coat, outside, sitting on a suitcase.

On a television screen.

The Doctor's still watching me. I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile, but it probably came out more like a grimace. "Give me time."

Time.

He smirks, but it's so sudden, I'm not actually sure he did. "Of course. Come on, Amelia, let's go look at that crack in your wall."

All of time and space. Space… and time… Time… and relative dimensions in space…

_It's bigger on the inside._

I clutch at the stairs' railing. My stomach lodges into my throat as I almost fall off a step.

That voice… in my head… it wasn't my voice. It was different. A woman's voice, but not mine.

And not American.

* * *

"You've had some cowboys in here," the Doctor says, inspecting the wall. "Not actual cowboys, though that can happen."

I'm standing just outside the doorway, behind Amelia. I don't want to get too near that crack. Don't ask me why. I just don't. Amelia is playing with an apple in her hand. The Doctor is bent over a small desk, pressing his hands to the wall.

"I used to hate apples," Amelia says. She's staring at the apple in her hand. "So my mum put faces on them." She walks into the tiny bedroom and hands the apple to the Doctor.

He smiles at her. "She sounds good, your mum." He tosses the apple in the air and catches it. He slips it into his pocket, saying, "I'll keep it for later." He turns back to the crack. The long, freaky crack slashing through the middle of an otherwise normal wall. "This wall is solid and the crack doesn't go all the way through it. So here's a thing - where's the draft coming from?" He pulls that blue glowing pen thing out of his pocket and flashes it at the crack. "Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey. You know what the crack is?"

"It's a crack," I say. My voice waivers. Why am I so afraid of a crack in a wall?

The Doctor nods. "I'll tell you something funny. If you knocked this wall down, the crack would stay put, cause the crack isn't in the wall."

I shake my head, even through they're both focusing on the crack.

"Where is it, then?" Amelia asks.

"Everywhere," I say. They watch me now and, gathering all the courage I think I have, I take a step into the room. It didn't explode like a dying star. Good. "In everything." I say this to the Doctor, knowing I'm right, but not knowing how and not sure that I want to be.

"Yes," he confirms, sliding a finger down the crack, tracing it. I don't like him touching it. "It's a split in the skin of the world. Two parts of space and time that should never have touched, pressed together...right here in the wall of your bedroom." He presses his ear to the wall. "Sometimes, can you hear…"

"A voice?" Amelia interrupts. "Yes."

"Prisoner Zero has escaped," I whisper.

The Doctor spins away from the wall. His eyes travel over me a second, before he rushes to the table next to the door. He picks up a cup of water and tosses the water onto the floor. I jump away. That moist feeling is finally leaving my body and I don't want to add anything to it. Ignoring me, he goes back to the wall. He puts the glass against the wall and then listens through the other side of the glass.

"Prisoner Zero?" he questions.

"Prisoner Zero has escaped," Amelia confirms. "That's what I heard. What does it mean?"

"Prisoner Zero has escaped," I say, with a bit more conviction and not as if I have crackers stuck in the back of my throat. "It means that, on the other side of your wall, there's a prison. And… they've lost a prisoner."

The Doctor steps back form the wall and tosses the glass away. It bounces, but does not break against the carpet. "Do you know what that means?"

"What?" Amelia and I say at the same time. I'm standing behind her now. I'm not hiding behind her. I'm ready to pull her away if something happens. Because… something tells me something is going to happen.

"You need a better wall!" He picks up the desk, shuffling backwards as he continues. "The only way to close the breach is to open it all the way. The forces will invert and it'll snap itself shut. Or…"

"What?" Amelia asks.

But I have a feeling I know.

The Doctor turns toward us. He gives us a very unreassuring smile. "You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?"

Amelia sighs and says, with all the dignity of a child with an old soul, "Yes."

"Everything's going to be fine."

He turns back to the wall, taking Amelia's hand. I take her other hand and I'm sad to say that I'm holding it harder than she's holding mine. The Doctor points the glowing stick at the wall. It whirrs, a high pitch sound. The crack starts a glow with white light, growing brighter as the crack expands and lifts. I blink at it, but then the middle is black and I can see again.

In the distance of the black… are those bars from a prison?

"Prisoner Zero has escaped." A loud, matter-of-fact, tinny voice.

The Doctor steps closer. "Hello?"

I hold tight to Amelia's hand. Is he insane?! She's just a kid! Who knows what's in there?

"Prisoner Zero has escaped."

"Hellooooo?"

I cover my mouth to stifle a scream. A giant eye peers at us. It must be the size of a hot tub!

"What's that?"

The iris is blue. It's otherwise normal looking except for the size and the general uneasiness I get when it looks right at me.

A small ball of light flings out of the crack. Gasping, I grab Amelia by the waist and yank her away from the Doctor just as the ball of light strikes him. He falls back, landing in a sitting position on the bed. He seems fine, but I don't let Amelia go.

The crack snaps shut.

In the beat that follows, I realize that my heart isn't pounding as hard as it should have been. I'm acting scared, but… am I actually scared?

I let Amelia go.

"What was that thing?" she asks. "Was that Prisoner Zero?"

"No," I say. "I think that was Prisoner Zero's guard. Or… the warden or something?"

The Doctor stands, taking a little dark leather wallet out of his pocket. "Whatever it was, it sent me a message. Psychic paper, takes a lovely little message." He opens it. "'Prisoner Zero has escaped.' But why tell us? Unless…"

No…

"Unless what?" Amelia asks.

I turn in a slow circle around the room, paying close attention to the corners of the room.

"Unless Prisoner Zero escaped through here," The Doctor says. "But he couldn't have. We'd know." His voice is distracted and as I complete a circle, I see from the corner of my eye that he's doing the same thing I am.

The corner of my eye.

The Doctor runs out the room a second before I do. I nearly crash into him as he stops. Amelia does crash into me. I step to the side as the Doctor faces us.

"What is it?" Amelia asks.

The Doctor looks around the hall as I do the same. Again. "It's difficult. Brand-new me, nothing works yet. But there's something I'm missing…" Our eyes lock. Even as I note the peculiar shade of green in his eyes, I'm not actually looking at him. I'm looking with my peripheral vision. And I'm not sure why. "In the corner…" His eyes leave mine and I mirror him as his head slowly turns to the right. "Of my eye."

The door. The white door. Why is it giving me the heebie-jeebies? And why did I just say heebie-jeebies?

And then the moment is over. Because my thoughts are interrupted.

By the teeth clenching sound of a cloister bell.

The Doctor's concentration is broken as well. He looks at the window next to us. He looks at Amelia. He looks at me.

And he takes off down the stairs.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" He's panicked.

Amelia and I look at each other.

"Is that Prisoner Zero?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I don't think so…" I gasp and take off after him.

Something tells me I should stay very, very close to the Doctor.

I run down the stairs, through a short hallways, and I burst through the back door and into the backyard. The Doctor is only yards ahead of me.

"I've got to get back in there!" The Doctor is shouting, all pretense of being in control gone. "The engines are phasing, it's going to burn!"

The Doctor's freeing the grappling hook attached to the rope we used to climb up. I stop behind him and watch, not sure how to help.

"But... it's just a box!" Amelia says from next to me. "How can a box have engines?"

He's gathering the rope. "It's not a box. It's a time machine."

I'm more surprised than I should be, honestly. I mean I climbed out of the thing. The thing that's a blue box with windows, double doors, and a glowing sign that says police box.

"What, a real one?" Amelia says, disbelieving. "You've got a real time machine?"

A box that's a fraction of the size of what I climbed out of.

"Not for much longer if I can't get her stabilized. Five-minute hop into the future should do it." I can't quite see what he's doing, but I think he's looping the rope around the door handles or something.

"Can I come?" Amelia asks.

"Not safe in here, not yet. Five minutes. Give me five minutes, I'll be right back." He hops onto the edge of the box, preparing to jump inside.

"People always say that," Amelia sighs.

The Doctor pauses. He looks at me a second, then jumps to the ground. Not inside. He bends down to look into Amelia's face. "Am I people? Do I even look like people?" He stands, smiling. He holds a hand out to me. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Do we look like people?" I place my hand in his. He pulls me away from Amelia. "Trust me. I'm the Doctor."

I smile at her as well. "We'll be back, Amy…" No, that's not right. I shake my head. "Amelia. I promise. We'll be right back." I poke her nose, which wrinkles in disgust, probably at being treated like a child.

"Oh no, you're staying here!" he says to me.

I spin and face him. "Oh, no, I'm not. I'm an adult and I'll make my own decisions, thank you very much." I rip my hand out of his and dodge past him.

I can't stay here. Not even for five minutes.

I look into the small box and see the bigness from before. Yup. So not staying here.

"It's not safe," the Doctor is insisting.

Such a long jump. Should I be scared? No, I'm more afraid of being left here. Without the Doctor.

"It never is with you, is it, Doctor?" I say to the inside of the Tardis. The wood isn't wood, it's alive, and buzzing against my touch, even though it's sick.

"The whole thing could blow up!" He grabs my arm and tries to pull me back.

But it's not just my strength that lets me cling to the Tardis. The Tardis doesn't want me to let go.

"It's a chance I'm willing to take."

I pull my gaze from the dizzying height. And I stick my tongue out at the Doctor. Then I wink at Amelia, pull myself out of the Doctor's grip, and jump right over the side. I whoop as I fall.

This must have been how Alice felt falling down the rabbit hole.

Just before I hit the pool, I hear from above me, faintly, "Geronimo!"


	5. 3: The Eleventh Hour Part Three

**I'm... just going to leave this right here and run away. I will warn you that I'm brushing off the cob webs and trying to write myself out of a hole so... yeah... You've been warned!**

* * *

**.3.**

**The Eleventh Hour**

**Part Three**

I'm floating. It's amazing here, in the pool, in the library, in the Tardis. I'm on my back, my ears just below the surface of the water. I open my eyes. The ceiling is still the bookshelf, though the books are no longer falling. The walls are the floor and ceiling. It's so messed up. But it's wonderful at the same time.

"That was a very dangerous stunt you just pulled."

I open my eyes. The Doctor has climbed onto a bookshelf. He's dripping water down the ancient looking books. He's glaring at me, arms crossed.

"What?" I ask.

"Jumping into the Tardis when I asked you not to."

I sigh and turn, my head now bobbing just above the water. I swim over to him. "I couldn't let you leave me there."

"Why not?"

What could I tell him? That I had a feeling that if I didn't go with him, I'd be stuck with Amelia for more than five minutes? Like… a lot more than five minutes…

But that's just silly. Right?

I shrug instead of answering. "Just felt right."

The Doctor squints at me. "Well, come on then," he squats down, offering a hand to pull me out of the pool. "We're already traveling. You might as well help me set our destination."

I let him help me out. His hand is cool in mine. Our eyes meet and something travels through us. A connection of some sort. I'm drawn to this strange man. I want to run my fingers across his jaw. In fact, my hand starts to do it, but I stop myself.

"How do we know each other?" I ask.

He swoops his damp hair out of his face. "You've been traveling with me for a while. We don't have time right now to go into the details. The engines are starting to smoke. We have to get back to the control room. The automatic gravity switch is still malfunctioning, so we'll have to climb again." Sure enough, wisps of smoke are curling down from the ceiling.

The Doctor climbs up the rope first this time. I follow, and try not to stare at his bottom. "I'm going to have to manually erase all the room except for the control room. That should allow the gravity to reset to the proper setting. Otherwise, I'd say you can stay here. But I don't want to erase you."

Something about that statement strikes something in my mind. Erase me. Erasing… people. Worlds. The universe. Unbidden, that crack in the wall comes to mind.

"Right," I say. I shake my head to clear these thoughts. "Well, let me know what I can do to help."

Apparently nothing.

Minutes later, I'm standing against the wall, out of the way, while the Doctor runs around the console like a maniac, pressing buttons and flicking switches. Something about this is familiar. Well, except the massive amounts of white smoke pouring out of the console.

"Uh, Doctor?" I ask. "Is it ok to… breathe this stuff?"

He spins to me. "Oh, it's not ok. No, not ok at all. Terribly bad, actually." He ducks under the console and the smoke momentarily swallows him up. He pops out with something in his hand. He coughs a moment, then tosses the weird thing at me. I catch it and try to figure out what it is. I can't even describe it. It's leather, with straps, and there's two glass things that kinda look like giant round eye holes, but the mouth reminds me of an ant eater, except not…

"Put that on," the Doctor instructs, still coughing. "I knew I had a gas mask around here somewhere."

A gas mask. I frown, but as soon as he says what it is… well, duh, what else would it be? I slip it on and find I can breathe better, though each breathe sounds a little like Darth Vader.

"Are you my mummy?" I ask.

The words come unbidden, and in a high pitch, English accent at that.

Weird.

The Doctor freezes and looks at me a second. "What did you just say?"

"Sorry," I say. My voice is muffled to even my own ears. "I think it was a line to a movie or something. I seem to remember pop culture references. That's something, at least, right?"

He marches over to me. The dark look on his face is made even more ominous by the smoke billowing everywhere. He stops right in front of me, inches away. His hand weighs down my shoulders.

"Explain it to me."

I blink a couple times. "Um… Why?"

"It's important. Explain to me how you know that."

"I don't know," I say. "I put this on, it made me think of a little kid on TV saying that." He keeps staring at me. It's really unnerving. "And… there's a blonde girl with a big mouth and a handsome guy with a big smile in a billowy jacket… like… World War II style… Like he's a military captain or something." That sets off another thought. "Captain… Captain Jack! Sparrow? No, that's a pirate. Captain Jack will get you high tonight? No, that's a song… Captain Jack Harness? Harkness! Yes, that's the character! Captain Jack Harkness." I smile, happy with myself. "He's dreamy."

The Doctor is less enthused. "Oh, of course…" he mutters. Then he clears his throat. "Anyone else you remember from this… TV show?"

I think a moment. "Just some dude with a big nose who wears a leather jacket. I don't like him for some reason."

He releases me and walks away without another comment.

Geez, did I insult him or something?

"So, why is it important that I remember a TV show?" I ask him.

For a second, I think he isn't going to answer. As I sigh he finally responds. "Remembering anything can trigger something else, which can make you remember everything. If I had time…" He laughs. "Time. That's rich. I don't have enough time anymore, do I?" He grins at me then goes back to whatever he's doing.

And whatever he's doing is making the smoke thicker.

"Keep talking," he says. "Keep following that man in the leather coat. Maybe it'll lead you somewhere."

I roll my eyes. "But the man in the leather coat is boring."

"What about the blonde girl? Tell me about her." He's talking, but he's not paying attention to me.

"The blonde? She's as annoying as the man is boring. I don't know why. She's one of those perfect characters, like she can do no wrong and she's so innocent and the man in the pin striped suit loves her, but he won't say it." I keep talking, but the Doctor is focused on what he's doing. "The man in the pin striped suit has awesome hair. I like him way better than the man in the leather jacket. I was happy when the man in the leather jacket left, because I liked the guy in the pin striped suit's hair. And he was generally better. I was really upset when he was replaced with the guy in the bow tie, but I ended up liking the guy in the bow tie just as…"

I trail off. Because again, something is at the edge of my thoughts, but I just can't quite reach it.

"That's it!" the Doctor shouts.

And I completely lose my train of thought.

"What's it?" I ask.

But I'm ignored.

"No, no, no!" The Doctor slams his palm against the console.

The whole room starts shaking. The smoke is too thick for me to see now. There's a weird mechanical wheezing, a grinding that hurts my head. The room jerks to a stop. I almost fall, but I brace myself against the wall. It feels sad and sick.

"Lily," the Doctor coughs. "Can you follow my voice? We need to leave. Now."

I hear a door. I follow the bit of light. A hand grabs mine and drags me out of the Tardis.

The Doctor slams the door shut. He coughs into a red handkerchief. "You ok?" he asks.

I slip the mask off and drop it on the ground. I work my cheek muscles. I didn't even realize how tight that thing was. "Fine."

"Good. Amelia!" he shouts, though it sounds a bit choked. "Amelia!" He looks around.

It's daylight. When we left it was night.

He grabs my hand and starts running toward the house, pulling me with him. "Amelia! I worked out what it was. I know what I was missing! You've got to get out of there!" He drops my hand and pulls that gray pen thing out of his pocket.

"It's daylight," I say.

"I know," he grumbles. He's pointing the gray pen at the door. It blinks on and off, giving a high pitch whirr every time the blue light comes on.

"It was night when we left," I point out.

"I know, Lillian," he grumbles. The door unlocks and he bursts into the house.

"You promised her five minutes!" I say.

"I KNOW!" he spins and yells at me. He grabs my shoulders. "But that's not what's important right now!"

"Your promise to a kid isn't important?"

He glares at me, but then turns around and opens the second white door. "This is life or death, Lily. Amelia!" He charges right up the stairs. I follow him. "Amelia, are you all right? Are you there?" He stops at the second door at the top of the landing and points the blue light at the knob. I stand behind him, my arms crossed, watching him. "Prisoner Zero is here. Prisoner Zero is here!"

And for the second time in my current memory, something hits the back of my head and I completely black out.

* * *

I really hope the universe isn't going to make a habit of this. This time as I wake up, my neck is jutting at an awkward angle. I blink a few times. Someone is talking.

"White male and female, mid-twenties, breaking an entering," says a female voice. "Send me some back-up, I've got them restrained."

That voice is very, very familiar.

"Oi, you two! Sit still."

Somewhere near me, the Doctor groans. "Cricket bat. I'm getting cricket bat."

"You were breaking and entering."

The Doctor jerks, as if to run, but then there's metal against metal, and he stops. I lift my head and force my eyes open. He's handcuffed to a radiator. Hell, I'm handcuffed to the banister of a stairway. My head was resting against the stairs. Awesome.

"Well, that's much better," the Doctor says. "Brand-new me, whack on the head. Just what it needed. Lily? How are you?"

I roll my neck around. It does nothing for the kinks. "I've been better."

But there's something about this whole thing that's very familiar. But… I'm at the wrong angle or something. I'm seeing this in my head and the angle is all wrong.

"Do you want to shut up now?" the police woman says. "I've got back-up on the way!"

"She's a police woman," I say. The pretty officer looks down at me. She looks… worried?

"And you two breaking and entering. You see how this works?"

"But what are you doing here?" the Doctor asks. "Where's Amelia?"

That makes the officer pause. "Amelia Pond?"

"Yeah. Little Scottish girl. Where is she? I promised her five minutes but the engines were phasing. I suppose I must have gone a bit far. Has something happened to her?"

And there's something about this police offer that isn't quite right. What kind of police officer wears a short skirt? And stockings with seams up the back of the leg?

"Amelia Pond hasn't lived here in a long time," the officer says.

"How long?" I ask.

She hesitates, but glances at me. "Six months."

The Doctor shakes his head. "No, no, no! I can't be six months late! I said five minutes. I promised."

So. Freaking. Familiar. Why?

"What happened to her? What happened to Amelia Pond?"

The officer walks a few steps away and speaks into her radio. "Sarge, it's me again. Hurry it up, these two know something about Amelia Pond."

Oh my god.

That's it. Amelia Pond! She's Amelia Pond! Amy! Amy Pond!

And he's the Doctor. THE Doctor. As in… Doctor Who…

Oh my god. I'm in my favorite TV show!

"I need to speak to whoever lives in this house now." The Doctor isn't looking at me. He's looking at Amy.

"I live here," says Amy.

Holy shit! Holy shit! I'm in a TV show! Why am I in a TV show? How did I get into a TV show?

I have no clue. I remember watching this show, but I don't remember anything else. I still don't know who I am. But I know this is a show! Hell, I can even remember watching it on a couch, but that's it, really.

"How many rooms?" The Doctor is asking.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"On this floor. How many rooms on this floor? Count them for me now."

"Why?"

"Because it will change your life," I say. The words sort of force their way out of me.

The Doctor finally looks at me. I try to keep normal, but he sort of cocks his head at me.

"Five," Amy says. She points them out, counting as she does. "One, two, three, four, five."

"Six," the Doctor and I say together. "Six."

"Six?"

"Look," the Doctor instructs. He breaks eye contact with me. One crisis at a time, I guess. Better he ignores me, anyway. At least until I figure this whole thing out.

"Look where?"

"Exactly where you don't want to look," I say.

"Where you never want to look," the Doctor finishes. "The corner of your eye. Look behind you."

Amy turns, slowly, and freezes the moment she sees the door. "That's... That is not possible. How's that possible?"

"There's a perception filter round the door," the Doctor watches her carefully. "Sensed it the last time I was here. Should've seen it."

"But that's a whole room. That's a whole room I've never even noticed."

I creep around the corner of the banister. The door is freaking me out a little bit. Mostly because I know exactly what's behind door number six. "The filter stops you. Something came a while ago to hide."

The Doctor adds, "It's still hiding. You need to uncuff us now!"

Amy starts to walk toward the door. "I don't have the key. I lost it."

"How can you have lost it?!" The Doctor is freaking out now. I slide back to the stairs as he tries to pull his hand out of the cuffs, as if it would work. "Stay away from that door!" Pull. "Do not touch that door!" His hand reaches out. "Listen to me! Do not open that…" His hand falls. I near a door open. "Why does no-one ever listen to me?" He's looking at me now. "Do I just have a face that nobody listens to?" He sighs. "Again…?"

I giggle. I can't help it. This whole this is so ridiculous.

The Doctor glares at me. "You're no help. Should have left you in the Tardis."

"So I can eventually suffocate from the toxic fumes? Gee, thanks, Doctor."

"Oh, I see you've discovered your sarcastic side," he grumbles, patting his pockets.

I grin at him. "Yeah, well, the risk of imminent death can do that to a girl."

"My screwdriver, where is it?" he ignores me. Again. "Silver thing, blue at the end. Where did it go? Lily, do you have it?"

I pat myself but there's nothing. I shake my head.

Amy calls from the room, "There's nothing here."

The Doctor is feeling under the radiator. "Whatever's there stopped you seeing the whole room. What makes you think you could see it? Now, please, just get out!"

I think I know where the screwdriver is.

"Silver, blue at the end?" Amy confirms.

Yup. Ok, I remember this episode.

"My screwdriver, yeah."

"It's here."

The Doctor is looking at the room. "Must have rolled under the door."

"Yeah. Must have."

I shake my head. "It's on the table," I whisper. The Doctor whips his attention to me.

"And then it must have jumped up on the table…" Amy confirms.

"You remember something." It's a statement, not a question.

I hesitate. "It's not good."

"Get out of there!" the Doctor yells. He keeps repeating it. But at this point he's watching me. "What do you remember? This is very important."

I bite my lip. "I don't know."

"You're lying to me. Tell me what you remember!"

"What if it changes something?"

He scoffs. "Oh, now you're worried about changing things! You've been changing things, small things, yes, but I know. Now… I need you to tell me…" But he trails off. He listens, but there's nothing. "What is it? What are you doing?" he calls to Amy.

"There's nothing here, but…"

"Corner of your eye," I call. I can see the creature, the long, needle sharp teeth, the eel-like looks of it. Gross.

"What is it?" Amy asks.

"Don't try to see it." The Doctor shouts. "If it knows you've seen it, it will kill you. Don't look at it. Do not... look." He turns back to me. "Tell me, Lillian!"

"I don't know!" I say. "I know a few things, but nothing that's going to help you right now. Except that she'll bring you the sonic screwdriver. I swear, that's it right now!"

Amy screams.

"Get out!" The Doctor and I yell.

She runs out the room, slamming the door shut, and stops next to the Doctor. She hands him the sonic screwdriver.

He tries to use it, but it's still blinking. "What's the bad alien done to you?" He strokes the screwdriver.

"Will that door hold it?" Amy asks.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, course! It's an inter-dimensional multi-form from outer-space - they're all terrified of wood."

Bright light catches my attention. The door is rimmed in it.

"What's that? What's it doing?"

The Doctor is wiping the screwdriver. "I don't know, getting dressed? Run. Just go. Your back-up's coming, we'll be fine."

I stare at the door. "Doctor, there is no back-up."

"Yes there is. I heard her on the radio, she called for back-up."

I look up at Amy. She looks uncomfortable under the Doctor's stare. "I was pretending. It's a pretend radio."

"But… You're a policewoman."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm a kissogram!" She pulls off the hat and her red hair falls around her face in perfect waves. How did she do that?

Oh right. TV show. Of course she looks perfect after having her hair stuffed into her hat.

Because this is a TV show. I'm in a… TV show…

Holy crap!


End file.
